The Countdown
by Ignite the Airwaves
Summary: Bodies with numbers carved in their chests are showing up in Quantico- each eerily similar to a member of the BAU. The unsub reveals the number one offender last through a surrogate, but goes after the real thing right after. Reid-centric
1. Seven

AN- I suddenly had a new idea, almost as I was going to bed the other night, and I had to write it out. It wouldn't leave me alone until I did. Hope you enjoy!

The Countdown

Chapter 1: Seven

There was something strange in the air when Reid entered the conference room. Some sort of intuition, the type he hadn't gained from books, was tugging at his insides; from the moment he looked at Hotch, he knew that something was horribly wrong.

The rest of the team must have felt it too; he could read it on their faces, and in their confusion, none of them had even attempted to mask their emotions. He noticed how Hotch's eyes kept flickering over to JJ, but that didn't mean much. She'd only returned a few weeks ago, and as glad as they all were to have her back, it was still unsettling to glance over and see her there, as though she'd never left.

Reid glanced at Emily. Their eyes met and they exchanged brief, wistful smiles. All it meant was another case, right?

"All right, everyone," Hotchner said, "Settle down."

Reid decided against mentioning that they were already silent.

"The newest case is local, right here in Quantico. Amelia Hudson, a white woman, age 30, was found shot in the head in an alley behind Super Shopper's Market on South Main Street. There were no other visible injuries besides some bruising around her wrists."

The team glanced at the screen; the woman was blonde, petite. Dead. They couldn't take the time to make more connections to her than those.

"But why would we get this case?" Rossi asked, leaning back in his chair, "Why something so close to home, and so simple? It was an isolated incident, maybe it was just a robbery gone wrong."

"None of her possessions were taken," Hotch said. "And there's one more thing." He motioned to Garcia, and she clicked onto the next slide of information, turning away in her chair so she didn't have to look the picture head-on.

In this picture, the woman's shirt had been lifted. A crude, bloody 7 was carved into her stomach.

"A number?" Morgan asked. Reid leaned forward to get a closer look.

"Not just a number," he said, "The number seven is highly regarded as a magical or special in certain mindsets. However, there is a possibility…I think…I think it may be a countdown."

Hotch nodded, "Precisely what I thought. They want us to catch the unsub before he can kill again. So what do we know here?"

"Well, obviously the unsub's going for a clean kill," Prentiss offered. "There's no sign of remorse, but there's also no obvious hatred- besides wounds sustained from her struggle and the number he carved, there's no sign of torture, prolonged or otherwise."

"Maybe the woman symbolizes someone to him, a surrogate. His kill list is backwards- he starts at seven and leaves the most offensive enemy to be killed last. This suggests that he may increase the torture as the numbers decrease and the offenses of those enemies increase," Reid said.

"So, then, if she's a surrogate and not the real offender, who's the unsub actually after?" JJ asked. Hotch shook his head.

"Don't forget, there's no proof that she is a surrogate. She may be his intended first victim. We're going to the crime scene, sign out an SUV. We leave in five minutes." Hotch left the room, and the rest of the team watched him go.

Morgan was the first to speak up. "Anyone else think something's up with him?"

"Maybe he doesn't like having a case so close to home. Makes him feel vulnerable, like he's not doing his job well enough." Emily didn't sound very convinced. Rossi chuckled and got to his feet.

"And here I thought we said we'd never profile each other."

Prentiss and Morgan, embarrassed, collected the files in front of them and hastily stuffed them into folders. Prentiss grabbed her cup of coffee, papers spilling out of her hands from every angle. "See you guys in the car." She left, Morgan close behind.

"Bye baby girl," he called over his shoulder teasingly.

"Goodbye my chocolate thunder," Garcia chuckled, following him out and planting a kiss on his cheek before turning into her office. JJ grinned at the exchange, then grabbed her bag and also got up to leave. Rossi was halfway out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Reid?"

"There's something wrong, isn't there." Reid's voice was quiet, and Rossi was surprised at the pure determination in his eyes.

"I wouldn't worry about anything until we get there." Rossi started to leave, and Reid stopped him again.

"That wasn't really an answer."

"Hey, who said I had all of the answers?" Rossi smirked. "Grab your stuff, we're leaving soon." Reid nodded reluctantly and went back to grab his messenger bag, slinging it across his body. He still couldn't shake off that feeling of foreboding. He looked at the screen one last time. Her blue eyes were open. They were staring, he felt it. With a shiver, he left the room and tried to put those eyes out of his thoughts.

"You're finally here, pretty boy? Thought you were planning to miss the car," Morgan joked, tousling Reid's hair. Reid laughed and shrugged away from the touch.

"Miss a car ride with you? As appealing as it sounds…"

"Hey, play nice." Morgan grinned, swatting at Reid. Reid caught his wrist.

"It's not my fault that you're intent upon harassing me at every turn."

"But Reid, you make it so easy!" Morgan pleaded.

"Oh my gosh, I think he's actually blushing," Emily laughed, "I think Reid is blushing."

"Excuse me, is this a car of children?" Hotch sounded more annoyed than amused. "Can we think about the case for a moment?" The others sheepishly quieted.

The car stopped.

"It's this close?" Prentiss asked, surprised. Hotch looked at her in the mirror and nodded grimly, getting out of the car.

"It's this close."

They walked up to the body spread on the pavement, and Reid crouched to get a better look. He had never had trouble looking at corpses before- and there had been many much more gruesome than this- but for some reason his stomach wouldn't settle. It was those eyes again. Bright blue, like JJ's. _JJ_. It all made sense now.

"Hotch, can I talk to you for a second?"

He seemed to expect the request, and after a moment of hesitation, nodded. Reid got to his feet and they walked away from the team. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid saw Rossi watch them go.

"Is this JJ?" Reid demanded.

"What?"

"This woman, up close, she looks exactly like JJ. Is that what had you so uncomfortable?" Reid lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hotch, do you think someone's targeting the team? Because if so, they have every right to know. We need to know who he'll target first, number seven or number one. We need protection."

"Reid, don't you think I know that? For now, we have absolutely no idea that this isn't all just a coincidence. And if you ever speak to me like that again, I won't be half as lenient, Reid. You're pushing your luck, and this isn't the first time You're an asset to this team. It would be a shame to lose you."

Hotch turned and left, and Reid was hit with the unfamiliar sensation of speechlessness. What had just happened? Was Hotch that scared, that he would lash out? What information was he hiding?

"Reid!" Morgan called out to him. "We just got a call. There's another victim across town. Get in." He gestured to the SUV. Reid was relieved to see that Hotch was already in the other one.

"You okay?" Morgan asked carefully as Reid got in the car. "What did you and Hotch talk about back there? You look like you saw a ghost."

"It's nothing." He wished that his voice hadn't shook, but Morgan nodded and returned his eyes to the road. His phone rang and he hit speaker.

"Talk to me, baby girl."

"Well, my lovely mister, I have your details on the latest murder as you drive. Charlie Arlington, 33 year old African-American. Rather buff, if I may say so myself. Worked a regular nine-to-five job as a personal trainer."

Reid glanced over at Morgan, those unfamiliar feelings of fear clenching tightly again.

"Thanks, we're on our way."

AN- Hope you liked it! I intend to really get into this one, unlike other fics I have so so many ideas for it. Review please!


	2. Six

AN- I've never gotten so many quick and positive responses (story alerts, reviews, favorites, etc.) before in such a short period of time. (I've never written a story for such a large fandom either though so yeah. But still.) Thank you guys so much, it made me so happy! I'm trying to get this next chapter out quickly because I'm really busy at school so I want you guys to have another piece to look at. Hope you like it!

The Countdown

Chapter 2: Six

They stood around the latest body, and by glancing at the faces around him, Reid knew that now some of the others felt it too; the warning, the fear.

"Morgan…he looks just like you," Emily murmured, turning to look at him. A sea of four other heads followed. Morgan shrugged lightly, his eyebrows furrowed. Reid could tell that he was trying to hide his apprehension. His fingers were tapping ever so slightly- almost shakily- against the insides of his arms.

Hotch's face was tight and drawn when he approached them. "Cause of death was ten stabs to the chest, six of them post-mortem."

"So he's escalating," Rossi noted.

"Obviously as these numbers decrease, the anger he feels towards these people increases," Reid said. He licked his lips, running a hand through his hair. JJ. Morgan. Who would be next?

"There's still no proof that they're surrogates," JJ continued, but her protest seemed weak. She was still seeing those blue eyes, Reid knew it. Truth be told, he was too. They all knew the truth now, to some degree, whether they wanted to or not.

"But how did the unsub manage to kill so quickly? Amelia was killed early this morning, Charlie just an hour ago. I mean, it's possible, but it's not so likely." Morgan crossed his arms tighter, as if refusing to believe that it could be true. That this man could be him. The six cut into his stomach peered up at all of them, taunting.

"Actually, Morgan's right. Not that it's impossible, but the improbability is true." Reid crouched down beside the body and gently lifted the man's right hand in his gloved one. "Right here, look at his fingertips on the right hand."

Emily knelt down next to him. "Frostbite."

"So the unsub is freezing his victims now? Why go to the trouble?" Rossi asked, wrinkling his nose. "The cause of death was exsanguination, so the freezing is obviously unrelated to his actual method of killing."

"He wants us to find these bodies quickly." Hotch said it so quietly that the others were hardly sure that they had even heard him at all. "No down time. He wants us to become tired and careless."

"He's after us, isn't he?" Emily was the brave one. She was the one who dared to say it out loud.

Almost imperceptibly, Hotch nodded. "We need to get back and try to work out a profile as soon as we can."

"But if this guy's going after us, aren't we personally affected? Like a conflict of interest? Shouldn't another team be assigned to the case?" JJ asked, worried.

Hotch snorted. "If you want to be separated in protective custody. If you want to sit and wait to be found. I don't know about all of you, but I think the best thing for us to do right now is what we do best- profile. We're the only ones who can find the unsub. You all know that."

"He's right," Rossi shrugged. "If the unsub's after us, only we would figure out why."

"Morgan, call Garcia and tell her we're coming over. We need to look through some old case files. The unsub is obviously out for revenge." Hotch turned back towards his car without another word; glancing at each other, the rest of the team followed.

"This case really has him rattled," Emily murmured into Reid's ear as they climbed into the car. He shrugged, eyebrows quirking upwards. He knew that right now she was evaluating his uncharacteristic silence. Before she could comment on it, the car pulled out and she seemed to redirect her attention on reviewing the case.

They tried to build a steady profile during the car ride, and continued it even as they walked back into the bullpen in a bustle of activity.

"Well, being that JJ's surrogate was the least injured, I think it's safe to assume that the related case was one in which she was not in the BAU with us," Reid explained, spilling a pile of folders out onto the conference room table. "It's also more likely that it was somewhere in the three months where Morgan was recovering from his broken ankle, being that he was only number six on the list of offenders. He probably wasn't kicking down any doors."

Hotch nodded. "Then what we need to determine is just who is the number one offender. That'll make it easy to pin the case. But until then, we need to go through all of these files. Think of any criminal with a brother or family member who may want to take revenge. Send all potential names up to Garcia."

A squat officer stuck his head in the doorway, normal smile gone for a grimace. "Um…sir?"

"What?" Hotch glared at the agent.

"T-two more bodies have been found, uh, sir."

"Dammit," Hotch cursed. The others were surprised at the outburst. "Okay, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss, you go and check out the crime scene. Reid, you start working on a geographical profile, and JJ and Prentiss, you two keep looking through the cases with me."

"You got it," Rossi answered, pulling on his jacket and straightening it out.

"Rossi?" Hotch's tone was quiet, conspiratorial, but everyone could hear him anyway.

"Yeah Aaron?"

"When you get there, call and say who it is."

These words hit everyone harder than they had expected. JJ covered her mouth, and Emily looked away. Reid, meanwhile, rubbed at his face and bent in front of his map. Only Rossi seemed unruffled, nodding.

Reid was watching his maps when JJ sat next to him. She whispered, "Doesn't this freak you out, Reid? There's an unsub deliberately after us. Even though he doesn't want me, er, most dead, still."

He wanted to be compassionate, he really did, but the best he could manage was a wry smile. "They're always after us. We just usually don't know it, or don't pay attention. And, after all, they always get us in the end." He walked up to the white board and started to scribble an equation- the distance formula, JJ remembered. After one case where his mental math had failed him, he always wrote this one out.

"Reid…" She sat still. There was nothing to say, but that tone in his voice, how it caught on some words like he was uncertain and worn and almost about to cry, it frightened her like nothing else.

He ignored her for a moment, until the chirping of her cell phone made itself all too known in the room. She glanced at Reid one more time before answering.

"Hotch? Yeah. Okay. Yeah, we'll stay here." She hung up and looked over at Reid again. Now he was paying attention to her, the white board forgotten.

"They…they just found numbers five and four. Five isn't exactly the same, but looks the most like Rossi. Four…four's a spot-on surrogate for Garcia," JJ said.

Reid cursed, and it was so uncharacteristic that JJ looked up in surprise.

"Reid?"

"September 28, last year, when you were off. It was sometime between then and April, when Rossi was out of the field for parts of cases. Call Garcia, I need every case file from that time, specifically one that includes an unsub that was taken down primarily by me, Hotch, or Prentiss."

She was going to ask more, but there wasn't time. And deep down in the pit of her stomach, she knew that Reid's surrogate had yet to appear. What if he was number one? She couldn't even consider it.

AN- Felt rushed, but I hope you liked it! Trying to update as frequently as I can.


	3. Five

AN- For some reason, this chapter was really difficult to write. I did my best, I hope that you guys still like it. School's been getting in the way of writing lately, all writing. Gah. Well here you go.

The Countdown

Chapter 3: Five

The body count was at four, and they weren't any closer to finding the killer. Reid could see the stress in all of his team members, in how their fingers and bodies curled up tight in front of their work. The stakes were always high in their job, but cases rarely hit so close to home; generally when they did, at least it was only one member that was jaded. Now they all were. He couldn't stand the uncertainty, but at least the mood was somewhat lifted when Garcia popped into the room.

"Okay, my lovelies, here's the scoop. I'm sending fifty-seven names your way. I would pay a particularly large amount of attention to a certain Trevor Jameson, but that's just one of my little hunches. I never trust a Trevor." Garcia said, nodding at them. Her voice was perky, but her eyes seemed wider and sadder than usual, hair mussed- Hotch had just posted security outside of her door.

"Garcia, are you o-," Reid started to ask, but Hotch cut him off.  
>"Okay, we'll check it out. Send them over and we'll call you when we need something else."<p>

Garcia nodded, slightly confused by her boss's outburst, and left. Reid was about to turn to Hotch, to say something, but suddenly he felt that he just couldn't, that he couldn't even look Hotch in the eyes.

"Everyone, back to work," Hotch said curtly. "Reid, come talk to me outside for a minute." Reid's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he pushed his messenger bag aside as he got to his feet and joined Hotch in the hallway. Hotch's shoulders were squared, and it gave Reid an odd sense of foreboding.

"Reid. We have fifty-seven names coming to us. Can you remember or narrow down what case it was, any one where you, Prentiss and I were in the field?"

"N-no Hotch, I've been thinking about it, and I've narrowed it down to a span of a few months, but I can't specifically recall which case it was, we were in the field pretty frequently over that period of time, and plenty of factors could contribute to our current unsub's need for revenge." He still wasn't sure why he was so nervous.

"Not even down to five cases?  
>"Er, no sir."<p>

Hotch's eyes darkened and his fists clenched. "For God's sake, Reid, you have an _eidetic_ _memory_ and yet you can't seem to remember anything! Why is it that you're on this team when you're proving to be completely and utterly useless? If you can't even use your brain to help us, you may as well leave."

He brushed by Reid without another word, and Reid felt like he was going to throw up, everything in his stomach was crawling and winding tight around itself. And then that pain came again as it had been coming, and Reid clutched at his head and everything spun until a hand on his shoulder grounded him.

"Hey kid, you planning on working today or what?" Morgan joked.

Reid scowled and ripped the hand off of his shoulder. Morgan stepped back in surprise. "Reid? Man, you okay?"

He didn't answer, tossing his bag over his shoulder and knocking over a cup of coffee in his haste; it spread thick and brown, staining the papers spread around it. Hardly even sparing it a glance, Reid bolted out of the door, blowing by Morgan without a second look; Morgan was still frozen with surprise. Emily and JJ grabbed at the case files, the ink running and ruined. They stopped, seeing that it was hopeless. They could always re-print them anyway.

"So what was that all about?" Emily asked.

Morgan shrugged, uncomfortable. "I wish I knew."

"I'm sure he just needs some time. A case like this is hard to face sometimes," Rossi offered, trying his best to look indifferent about the situation.

They all knew that it was more than that, but there wasn't much that they could do; so they kept working.

And then the phone rang and they all stopped, pens hovering, pages in mid-turn. After a moment of glances, Rossi picked it up.

"Yes? Okay. Yeah, I'll send them over. You better come back then. No, I don't know. He left. Oh. Okay. We'll be there soon, start heading back." Rossi hung up quietly, and watched the phone for a moment.

"Emily, stay here. Morgan, come with me to the crime scene."

"It's me, isn't it." It wasn't a question. "Who else? Hotch, or Reid?"

Rossi looked at her carefully, getting to his feet and brushing imaginary dust from his shirt. "You were three, Hotch's surrogate was two."

"So Reid is the top offender," JJ breathed. "He's number one. And he just left."

Rossi nodded, "But if we want to keep Reid safe, Prentiss, you can call Garcia and get her to find him. The rest of us need to go to the crime scene to collect any new clues. The unsub could be getting careless."

"I'm on it," she said. They left and she called Reid's cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. A disconcertingly familiar and formal recording. Then she called up to Garcia to track Reid's phone. She hoped that for once, he wasn't too upset, that he hadn't turned it off. That he was just ignoring her, but that they could find him if they looked hard enough.

Reid didn't even care at the moment, didn't care that he was alone, didn't care that his phone was back at his desk, didn't care that his gun was sitting right beside it. So were his credentials. Maybe Hotch would get the message.

It was confusing; he'd spent most of his life with the BAU, he never wanted to leave- but he knew that he was a constant hindrance. He had always gotten in the way, but they were too kind to tell him. They were afraid to leave him abandoned. _Poor little Reid, his abandonment and genius and addictions and abduction, we can't leave him alone, he'll get hurt._ Well fuck all of them, he was an adult and as much as his insides tore to think of it, he knew that he'd be better off getting by on his own. He used to do it all the time.

He could get by alone again.

AN- Hope you liked it!


	4. Four

AN- Sorry guys, I know it's been forever, but I only have junior year to blame. My coursework has been incredibly ridiculous lately. Anyway, enjoy!

The Countdown

Chapter 3: Four

He knew that Hotch's reaction was absurd and completely out of character, but it didn't lessen the shock, nor did it lessen the pain.

_A child. They treat me like a child. _

Reid had intended to stop at the coffee shop on the corner, but he found that, three blocks later, he was still pushing forward. It was irreversible as one of his tangents; and this time, there was no friend there to stop him.

He finally slowed under a hunched streetlamp, bending down to try and breathe through the fog. It had gotten colder at some point, and now his shirt, coming untucked, just wasn't warm enough. It struck him suddenly how incredibly irrational he had been, and he almost wanted to laugh. He pushed his hair back with one hand and hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. It was dark out, but he could still get a taxi. He'd stay in a cheap hotel somewhere, pay in cash, and get the hell out of there. If he was going to be irrational, he may as well take it all the way, get away, go somewhere far.

But to leave the case behind?

They were all in danger. He was in danger too, he just didn't want to think about it. It was all getting too messy. What if the killer knew more about them than they thought? What if their families were in danger? His mom?

Hands trembling, he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket with some difficulty. He dialed Morgan's number, feeling at the keypad in the dark, and listened.

_Riiiiiiing. Riiiiiing. Riiiiiing. _

It went to voicemail. Suddenly, Reid felt very nervous. He squinted at his phone again as he even more frantically tried another number, Emily's this time. Ringing. Ringing. He swore he heard a noise behind him, but when he whipped around, he couldn't see anything. Jumpy. He was just getting jumpy. He pressed the phone harder against his ear, as though he could bid Emily to pick up, but it kept ringing.

Reid hung up with a frustrated cry, and a lone passerby bumped into him, jostling the phone from his hands. He bent over to retrieve it from the ground, and sudden arms fastened around his torso.  
>"Goodnight, Dr. Reid."<p>

He felt first the pain behind his knees, and then nothing more.

They gathered silently around the body.

"This is the worst attack yet," Emily said, averting her eyes. "Not only the stab wounds and lacerations, but the…" She didn't have to say it. Everyone noticed the stains. Just dried enough- she knew they wouldn't be able to get any evidence. "This is angry. No, it's furious. It's personal."

Hotch raised his head and spoke. "Has anyone been able to reach Reid yet?"

Morgan shook his head. "Phone's not picking up." He knelt down beside the body, brushing brown hair away from the closed eyes- the number one appeared bloody on the pale forehead. The clicks of CSI cameras were distant, muted.

"No frostbite this time," Rossi observed. "The kill is fresh."

JJ's arms looped around her torso, and she shivered. "We'll find Spence in time, right? We don't even know if the Unsub's going to start killing at number one." Her glance was searching, frightened. Rossi and Hotch shared a meaningful look.

"We all need to get back to headquarters," Hotch finally asserted, "Travel in groups and stay armed. The UnSub seems highly organized, and I believe he will go in order, but I want precautions to be taken despite what number your surrogate is. Keep your phones on. Prentiss, JJ, go with Morgan. I'll ride back with Rossi."

The others agreed hesitantly, eyes always straying to the body splayed out on the pavement. Same hair, same eyes, same clumsy legs. It could have been Reid.

They slowly got into their separate cars, and Rossi watched how Hotch's hands tightened white against the steering wheel, the motor quietly idling. Rossi waited until the other car had pulled away to speak.

"Aaron, he's going to be fine. He's Reid, he always is."

"Dave, how many times can we expect him to deal with all this? Every time; I keep letting it happen. He wanders off and gets himself hurt every single time."

"Hey, he's young, but he knows what he's doing. He's smarter than I'll ever be. Plus, we don't even know that he was taken at all. All we know is that he left us. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." Rossi leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, exhaling.

"I should call him again. Try, at least."

"Not while you're driving." Rossi's eyes stayed closed, and his hands folded in his lap. "You need to relax. We'll worry when it's time. Aaron, start the car."

Hotch slowly pulled away from the curb, eyes focused just a bit too intensely on the road.

"You know, he's not Jack. He can take care of himself."

"I _know_ he's not Jack!" Hotch hissed. "I never said he was." The left turn was sharp, but Rossi said nothing. He waited, and eventually, Hotch continued, his voice still angry, btu a bit calmer. "Reid is the youngest of us, but he is not my son, and I know that. He is a highly capable FBI agent. His judgment is just lacking, and that's what worries me."

"We'll see him again soon."

"Hopefully under good circumstance," Hotch murmured.

"Is there ever such a thing?" Rossi joked.

He thought that there may have been a bit of a smile there, just maybe. They pulled into Quantico feeling a little bit better than before.

AN- Hope you liked it! Also, if you lovelies could help me out, I recently entered a contest covering Falling Slowly with my friend, and we could use your likes! Go to this link and like entry #10 for me, and I'll be extremely grateful! facebook (.) com/OnceMusical/app_288203507935043

Thanks for reading and listening, everyone! Next chapter will be much sooner than this one had been, I promise!


	5. Three

AN- Yeah I literally have no excuses for how late this update is besides that working at a day camp is HARD. Jeez, I hate how long I leave you guys hanging. But I'm here now, right? That counts for something! I know that for now the UnSub's MO is gonna seem inconsistent with his previous actions, but I promise I'll tie it together.

The Countdown

Chapter 4: Three

The first thing he noticed was the cold. His bones were steeped in it, his skin heavy and clammy against them as he tried his best to move.

_Why can't I move?_

The pain rushed back like a migraine and he was covered in it, and, suddenly, Reid was having trouble breathing. It was cold and damp and everything smelled like it was covered in three thousand years of mold. And he didn't know where he even was. He was almost afraid to open his eyes.

"Dr. Reid, I know you're awake. Open those eyes for me."

Reid groaned softly. His eyelids were just too heavy.

"I meant _now_!" Reid's face was slapped hard, and his head lolled for a second until he could force his eyes open and sit up straighter. The pain was rocketing through his cheek, sharp and distracting, and he tried to bring his hand up to it, but it wouldn't move. His breath was harsh and fast, and he could see it right in front of his nose, and he remembered again how he'd had an inhaler as a kid, how he'd had every possible allergy and every breathing problem. He thought he'd grown out of that.

"That's better. Your eyes are so pretty. Don't hide them from me."

Reid coughed harshly, squinting at the light. "Who…who are you?"

"Me? You don't know? I'm hurt, Dr. Reid."

"Where am I?" he tried again, doing his best to stay calm because suddenly everything hurt so much _more_ in his legs and back and upper chest like there wasn't so much blood left in his body or air in the room, like it was getting cut off all at once.

"In time. You need to learn some patience. Pretty ones like you need to learn to wait every once in a while."

And there it was. At those words; the drop of his stomach, the rolling and fluttering. The man heard Reid's sharp intake of breath and smiled.

"We're going to have a lot of fun together, doctor. I've been waiting for this for a very long time."

Reid steeled himself. "Why do you think I'd ever enjoy your company?" he said quietly but with conviction, trying his best to be convincing through all of the fear.

"I can't believe you'd say that! NO ONE INSULTS ME!" Reid saw the fist coming before he felt it, but then the pit of his stomach exploded with pain and the breathing got even worse and frantic and the fist was at his shoulder and his face and now two thick hands were wrapped around his neck. Seeing stars.

When he was released, it was almost like being born again. Reid slumped forward, breathing haggardly. He watched the man warily, hair in his eyes.

"See, you really shouldn't do that. I didn't want to hurt you. I just want to play." The man looked thoughtful. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

Reid was too terrified to say no, to go against the man's will. If he only got unstable when insulted, maybe Reid could gradually gain his trust and escape that way. _It's not much of a plan, but it's something. Maybe he'll let down his guard just long enough. _

_If I last that long._

Reid's eyes flickered upward when a sudden movement distracted him from his thoughts. The man's face was suddenly so close, his eyes so intrigued. He was touching Reid's hair, and it took everything in Reid's power to remain still. He shut his eyes and shivered, and the man just chuckled and got down onto his knees, taking a gentle hold on Reid's chin.

"It's okay if you're nervous. Don't worry, I won't be upset. I'm here to teach you."

"Teach me what?"

The man seemed thoughtful for a second, and got to his feet. "You'll see soon. I need to go now, but I'll be back. Will you miss me?"

"How could I when you kidnapped me?"

"YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT. SHUT UP."

And his breath was hot in Reid's face and his face twisted angrily and suddenly he was pushing Reid's shoulders back hard into the wall and he was kissing him roughly, biting at his bottom lip and forcing his tongue into his mouth, pushing the bony shoulders harder and harder into the concrete. He pulled away slowly, eyes calmed again, then looked over and gently licked the blood from Reid's bottom lip.

"All better now." He laughed quietly, mirthfully. All of the malice in his eyes and body was gone now, as though it had never existed. Reid's eyes were glassy and unfocused, downturned to his feet. His breathing, so harsh before, was now quiet, and the cuff around his wrist must have tightened somehow to the pipe in the wall. He couldn't remember it being so tight and restrictive and he couldn't hear anything but the buzzing in his head getting louder and louder.

"I'll be back soon. Try to get some rest. Make yourself comfortable." The man walked up the stairs and Reid fought back hundreds of angry and sarcastic retorts, fought them back with that chilling fear up his spine, his lips too bruised to move. And he heard the door close at the top of the stairs, and his breathing sped and he fell over to his side, breathing and sobbing as silently as he could at what was to come. And he lay there wracked with the silent sobs long after the footsteps had petered away, and he lay there with a dry taste in his mouth until the tears subsided, but his mind was too clouded to think properly, because he already knew how this would end.

Anyone would know how this would end.

He could only hope the team found him in time.

"No one's heard from Reid yet?" Hotch asked, sitting down in the conference room. Everyone looked to each other, but no one replied. "Okay. We'll have to start looking. JJ, I need you to keep your eye on the press to make sure no information leaks prematurely. Also, as soon as we make a concrete profile, I'll need you to call a press conference. Morgan, I need you to stay behind and continue through the case files, and see if you can narrow down an UnSub or relative of one with a personal vendetta against Reid. Dave, Prentiss; come with me. We're going to see if we can retrace Reid's steps and find any clues."

"But Hotch, you're number two on the list. Man, that's too dangerous," Morgan said.

"We still don't know who the UnSub will kidnap first. It doesn't even need to be in order."

"But he took Reid!"

"Morgan, I advise you to keep your voice down. I know you're upset, and we all are. But we can't wait in here and hide and hope for the best."

"Exactly, so I should be able to come and look for Reid too."

"No, we need someone to look over the case files. That is just as much help."

"Like hell it is," Morgan grumbled, plopping into his seat and throwing a folder open.

Hotch seemed about to say something, but instead took a deep breath and nodded to Prentiss and Rossi. "Let's get going."

AN- Hope that was good! I'll try to update pretty soon, and by next chapter the UnSub's character will make 1000% more sense. I know right now it seems like he's bipolar but the previous murders are so violent that this bipolarity wouldn't admit it, but I have a way! Never fear! And review please!


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